"Come right along," replied Bowie, leading him a little aside. "Speak out. What is it? Have you found sign?"
"Heap sign," said Red Wolf. "Heap good medicine. Big Knife come, see."
"I'll do that!" exclaimed Bowie, with a sudden increase of interest. "No Indian boy was ever waked up like that without a reason for it."
Red Wolf's face was indeed "waked up," but it contained also an easily read warning when he added,—
"Tetzcatl. No good. No want him."
"I don't want him," said Bowie. "Walk slow now. Go right along."
It looked as if they were only strolling from one heap of rubbish to another. Red Wolf's leading was very direct nevertheless, and they were entirely hidden from observation when they stood in front of the covered crypt in the broken wall.
Even then not a word was uttered by either of them while the Indian boy removed some of his fragments of adobe. When, however, he put in his hand and drew it out full of silver coins, the sombre face of the Texan blazed fiery red.
"Heap dollar," remarked Red Wolf. "Big Knife find dollar. No Tetzcatl."